


Early to Bed

by al_coholica



Category: Laurel and Hardy (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1920s, Drunken Confessions, Early To Bed (1928), First Kiss, Fluff, M/M, Pining, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2019-07-06
Packaged: 2020-06-09 18:27:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19481536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_coholica/pseuds/al_coholica
Summary: Oliver doesn't want to go to bed, he wants to play.





	Early to Bed

Water ran down his knuckles into his sleeve, and, out of discomfort, Stan cringed and wiggled his thin wrist. The action only made the water drops travel faster down his arm and spill a little bit of water on the floor. He huffed, setting the bowl down next to Buster, their little dog they cared for while out in the streets. The dog wagged its tail happily, and though he was tired and irritated, Stan shot him a smile and patted his head. 

Oliver had left hours ago to celebrate his birthday, and with the spare time, Stan, being a good friend and trusty butler, made him a cake. It was moderately okay, it did have a taste of too much flour, and the icing was a bit runny, but it was a cake nonetheless. Sighing tiredly, he busied himself with cleaning up the spill, wouldn't want anyone to slip on that, now would we?

Just as he was about to put up the rag used to mop up the water, a knock on the door alerted him. He let a confused brow dip down, who on earth would be over here at three in the morning? But instead of questioning said person, Stan quickly put the rag away and ran to the door, readjusting his vest before opening up. 

Another wave of confusion ran over the man as he saw no one there. Letting his curiosity get the better of him, he stepped out into the cool air, a shiver running through his spine at the crisp breeze that made perfect timing. 

"Hello?" He called into the street, looking around in all directions. 

The door slammed behind him, and he spun around to see his master, Oliver, peaking outside through the tiny door with a big grin. He laughed as though this was the most hysterical thing he'd ever seen and closed the door, leaving Stan outside with a wet sleeve in the cold. 

Stan hurriedly ran to the door, slapping an open palm against it. 

"Sir? Ollie, open the door please!" He desperately yelled through the thick wood, putting his ear to it to hear Oliver giggling. Huffing out of frustration, Stan swung his arm at the door, which opened. He lost his balance and tumbled in, Olivers thundering laugh echoing through the large house. 

Stan picked himself off the ground and dusted himself off, glaring over at his friend. Oliver continued to laugh, and once it finally died down, he shrugged off his coat and threw it aside. Stan would have to pick that up later. 

"Hell-o Stanley. Ohmygoodness I had the gREatest time. Oh my, I do wish you co-could've come," Oliver pouted, his hands rested on Stans' shoulders. The smaller man could practically taste the alcohol off his friend, and he shrugged off his hands.

"Have you been drinking?" He asked sharply, already knowing the answer. Oliver hiccuped and nodded, a childish grin spreading across his face. He giggled and wiggled his tie at his friend.

"It's my BIRTHDAY Stannnniee," He whined a little too loudly, "An' I just had a couple of drinks."

"Drinks or bottles?" Stan snapped, his arms crossed tightly across his chest. Oliver grinned again. 

"Ohhhhh you're very fu-funny, but I swear on... my life that... I only had a couple of drinks," He slurred, a quick look of seriousness flashed across his features before he poked Stans' cheek and let out a wheeze. 

"Well," The smaller man spoke up, drawing the attention of the drunken man of the house, "You're going to bed!" He ordered, earning yet again another laugh from his friend. Oliver brushed past him, his eyes catching the small dog laying in his bed. He joyfully gasped and called Buster to him, only to be knocked down when the dog hopped on his chest. 

He fell back onto the stairs, alcohol-infused giggles escaped his lips and salty tears pooled onto the sides of his eyes. Stan grumbled under his breath and carefully picked up the small pooch, gingerly placing him back in his bed. His water bowl was empty, but that would have to wait till morning.

Making his way back to the stairs, Stan heard a familiar voice shout, and I quote "Yoohoo!" He looked up to see the man of the house at the very top of the stairs, his large top hat placed crookedly on his head. 

A brief chase embarked, which lead them both to Oliver's bedroom. Oliver was combing his hair back, the strands so tightly packed together it didn't even look real. Stan came up behind him and began to help him out of his suit, receiving a spray to the eye with cologne. 

He winced, eye stinging, and he quickly wiped it with his handkerchief. He tried to complete his task once more, only to his hands slapped and hair ruffled between meaty hands. He shoved the hands away, sighing out of frustration. 

"I don't wanna go to bed," Oliver informed him happily, shrugged his shoulders, "I wanna play." 

He then pushed past his skinny butler and ran over to his dresser, where he mischievously wiggled his fingers in a wave. Stan felt his brain quietly beg for sleep, he'd been up for far too long and he been feeling tired since lunch. Murmuring under his breath, he stepped up to his boss. 

"Fine," he mumbled, worn-out, "What do you wanna play?" 

Oliver's grin multiplied.

"Let's wrestle."

Before Stan could object, he was tackled to the floor. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and he gasped. Oliver didn't seem to notice, as he was busy with very bad wrestling moves. His drunken hands lazily fought against Stans.

They began to roll across the floor, hands clashing and limbs getting tangled together. Stan started to gain the upper hand, and as he pinned Oliver down with all his weight- not much weight- he began to tear at his clothes. He was gonna get this man to bed no matter how much he fought. 

As he set his attention onto a shirt button, he was then rolled off, his back smashing against the floor as Oliver settled over him, his meaty hands holding his thin arms out beside his head. 

"Oliver wha-" He was cut off as a whiskey-stained pair of lips crashed down to his, and he gasped in shock. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds before Oliver pulled back, alcohol seemingly gone from his system. He leaned back down for another kiss only for Stan to quickly turn away. 

" _What on earth do you think you're doing?_ " The smaller man asked, keeping his lips as far away as possible. Oliver sighed and let go of his arms, only keeping his much heavier body weight on top of him. His eyebrows furrowed. 

"Kissing you..." he stated, confused. Stan rolled his eyes. 

"I _know_ that part! But why?" He asked, his legs starting to feel numb from being pinned. Oliver avoided his eyes, an ashamed look washing over his features. 

"'Cause I like you Stannie, an' I wanted to kiss you, 'cause your lips always looked soft. An' you got very pretty eyes and your hair is very nice too. You are the only friend I got and I think I jus' got too caught up in the moment, I'm sorry," He babbled, keeping his eye trained on his tie. He rolled off of the skinny butler onto the floor next to him. 

Stan just blankly stared at him, his words registering in his head. Oliver liked him? Liked as in 'more than a friend?' That kind of like? He felt his heart speed up at the thought. 

"I see," He began, rolling over on his side to face his friend, "Well if you go to bed, I'll make you a nice breakfast in the morning and we can forget all about this," He smiled gently, knowing that in the morning, Oliver will never realize he spilled his feelings to his butler. But that's fine, he'd come around sooner or later. 

Oliver reluctantly agreed, changed into his pajamas, and slid into bed. 

Stan sighed and went to get Buster some more water before retiring to his own bed. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi im having an emotional breakdown so please accept this piece of shit :)))


End file.
